Why I won’t walk down that aisle - despite a £5,000 bribe from my father

In my defence, my mother takes every opportunity to criticise what I do, what I wear (apparently I have “a lovely figure but no one would know underneath the rags”), what I eat (according to her, “not enough”), how often I go out... It’s endless.

So recently, when I was walking with my mother past a “wedding special” bus and she said: “They’ll be doing it in spaceships by the time it’s your turn”, and I completely ignored her, I wasn’t too pleased that my marital status had now been added to that list of things for her to change.

I didn’t even think of this exchange again until two weeks later when my father called me up (this never happens) and said: “I have put £5,000 aside for when you get married.” In hindsight, I should have said “thank you” or something else that shows gratitude. Instead I said: “Why? I don’t want to get married.”

It seems I’m not alone. According to the Office for National Statistics, marriage rates in Britain are at an all-time low, and recent research by the Future Foundation for the Co-operative group also shows my generation is putting off walking down the aisle.

Compared with nearly a third of couples over 60, just one in seven aged 26 to 30 had met their other half before hitting their twenties.

Now, I’m not ungrateful for my parents’ generosity. I was not raised to expect anything from anyone. My parents didn’t contribute to my university fees or student rent, the deposit for a house I want to start saving for, and while I, like everyone, could have used some help, I knew they couldn’t afford it.

“Can I not have the £5,000 as a contribution towards a house deposit instead?” I asked my father when he called. His reply was only concerned with one thing: “Why don’t you want to get married?”

Ah. You see, up to this point my reasons were also unclear and un-thought out. This would not do for my Catholic father, so I replied, “I don’t know” and moved on.

After this phone call, I began to analyse why marriage had never registered highly on my list of priorities. If truth be told, I hadn’t ever given it more than a minute’s thought. Not even when I attended weddings of family or friends.

Don’t get me wrong — I’ve had a fine time eating cake and throwing small bits of paper over newlyweds but I never quite saw the point.

Of course, I’ve had the fantasy of one day marrying that elusive one who can somehow tolerate my yo-yo moods and inability to dye my hair without dying upholstery, while at the same time making me laugh hysterically. Although this makes for a great fairy tale, it doesn’t seem so appealing in reality.

This notion of “for ever” doesn’t seem either attainable or necessary in our lives any more. Today we are all about convenience. If something isn’t working, we stop using it. If our phone breaks, we get a new one. We don’t seem to have the time or inclination to “keep trying to make something work” if it isn’t. And our view of relationships has become much the same. As one of my friends pointed out: “Why have one partner when you can have as many as you like?”

Marriage is fundamentally based on religious beliefs. My Catholic grandparents married because they believed they should in order to have sex, procreate and become one in the eyes of the Lord. Many of us don’t feel the need to establish our relationships in terms of legal documentation any more, or “through the eyes of a Lord” that we don’t believe in.

Divorce has become normalised and we have been taught that nothing lasts for ever. While my parents divorced when I was only a few months old, my dad went on to marry soon after and has remained so, while my mum has had two marriages and several long-term relationships without finding “the one”. Merely “the one for now”.

Of course, I don’t speak for everyone. Some of my friends are married, some of them even happily, and I certainly believe marriage is something we should all be entitled to, should we be so inclined.

Yet despite the fact that I have a fantastic partner who I really do hope to spend as much time with as I’m able, there isn’t a bone in my body that has the urge to dress up and make promises to him in front of everyone we know.

When a friend of mine in her late twenties recently mentioned that her parents were still together after decades of marriage, there was shock and surprise around our pub table. “You just don’t hear of it these days, do you?” replied one.

But who knows, maybe I will still be with my partner in 30 years. Maybe I won’t. Is marriage really going to change that? Would I tolerate less without a ring on my finger? Wouldn’t I try as hard if I didn’t share his last name? I’d like to think not.

Maybe I’ll change my mind one day. In the meantime, I asked my father: “And if I don’t get married?” “Well, you’re not having the money, then.”